These are just a few individual thoughts that pop in daily; some stick around for further examination and some run away in different direcctions like tiny schools of shiny little fish being pursued by something hungry.
How fascinating that peace has often been the source of revolution.
All leavess a path behind us; twisted, narrow, slim
Can’t fix that damage to that road; can’t go back again.
All repairs are in ouor minds; revising hows and whys
The truth stings when the winter comes and cold wind burns our eyes.
She gave all. Which she never could have done if she were well known or a protracted amount of time spent. Love falls victim to time.
Everything is broken in someone’s perspective or estimation; imagined or real. The meaning of life is found in identifying the profound or minuscule beauty that eclipses or overshadows the flaws.
My voice was strengthened by my youth; but I had nothing to contribute but volume. Ironic that it should falter and fall silent only when I have something to say.
Was it that great a mystery; so hard to discern. Love only comes in disguise.
You can’t be out of tune if you only sing one note.
Floating is unproductive unless you are drowning.
Bob was wrong the times are not a changing. Just more verses to an eternal song.
Someone chose how you got here; you don’t choose how you leave.
Some will laugh and shake their head; others cry and grieve.
I may take my final breath; I may close my eyes;
All you need to know is this; this love will not die.
Everything is a sign to someone. Chocolate is mine.
I thought I heard the velvet soft sound of angels on wing…
Only through the greatest loss may we esteem and recount the greatest victories.
Your personal best is relatie to your personal bottom.
Our love was born in Autumn; those leaves turned ever so slow.
Baby don’t you cry; some things broken stay that way no matter what you try.
She may have gone to far.
She said she used to love someone; maybe that was me.
Stones scattered over this field belonged together before and after; now alone, they are just stones.
You are drawing the breath from me; I can feel it and want you to know; I know.
You can make a resounding crash or the faintest of thumps; depends on the height from which you jump
I miss the hurdy gurdy man; the man with the little stand organ and the monkey dressed as a doorman; bringing his cup by for your coin. He would bite the coin to see if it was real. Little red box hat; expressive eyes and wonder on the face of every child. I remember him well; hope he is wherever I show up next.
I swear I heard some off notes; yet, could not tell if they were meant to be there or that was just the way they fell on intention or mistake. Whatever is left is the song.
Rivers of shadows: wash these thoughts away.
I said I was devoid of stimulation; she said well that’s on you
I gave a shrug and walked away; but knew it was the truth.
We are all living under the influence.
You’re on a rocket; I’m on a bike.
I cant go that fast; you can’t go this slow; neither can know what it’s likel.
Get a job; you can’t always bum it; if it were that easy I’d have already done it.
The men in the cells to my right and left say they are innocent; well if that’s the case; I am too. Just not of the crime charged with; we are all innocent or guilty of something.
This street seemed longer last time I walked it; I must have been walking slower; perhaps barefooted and more cautious.
The Great Wall; the surface of the moon; I’ve seen one already, I’ll see the other soon.
If the sign is really large; it may be misleading or ill placed, It is the small signs that must be watched for with diligence.
Depravity just rolls off the tongue.
Depending on the way I turn; my shadow says I have grown to a thousand feet; or am so minute as to not exist.
If I don’t belong here and I don’t belong there; do I belong anywhere?
Will it matter to someone else when it ceases to matter to me.
A LITTLE POEM THROWN IN
You’re thinking that you’re thoughts are right on every count.
You’re voice full of conviction; no hesitance or doubt.
With no room for error or those who disagree;
the world may well sit silent to your fierce soliloquy
It’s well to be assertive, it’s well to state your case
It’s somewhat less to cook it all with no regard to taste
Of course that’s my opinion and one you’ll disregard
But the road you walk is lonely; the journey very hard.
Perhaps consideration that other thoughts exist
and something quite important might be something that you missed.
I cannot stand in judgement but merely may observe
that a straight line can be tedious and life is full of curves.
So should you find it in you to pause for just a blink
and consider possibilites and other thoughts to think
If just for entertainment; it might shed some light
and reveal continuums that run tween wrong and right
Scruffy August 2023
This poem was found as all others; among grocery lists, individual thoughts and random words. There are hundreds if not thousands; dating back to my childhood. I hope to have time to put as many down as possible. As scattered as it all may be; it is the story of my existence on this ball of string. More to come.